


blackbirds, backwards, forwards and fall

by anupturnedboat



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, One Shot, Rescue Missions, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 12:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2025510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anupturnedboat/pseuds/anupturnedboat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is a recon mission,” Bellamy is saying over the crackle of a small fire.</p><p>Post 1x13</p>
            </blockquote>





	blackbirds, backwards, forwards and fall

“This is a recon mission,” Bellamy is saying over the crackle of a small fire. “We get in. We get out, no shooting unless there is no other choice. We don’t have enough ammo for a full on assault.”

Finn looks for stars, he’s listening, but Bellamy is really just talking out the plan again. Everyone already knows what they need to do.

Bellamy kicks the bottom of his boot. “Are you in or are you out?”

“I got it – we need to be stealthy,” Finn barks back.

There has been tension in the air for days. It is left unsaid, but it is about Clarke, which is something he really doesn’t want to think about. It is also about the fact that they are about to do something dangerous. Something that could backfire and get everyone they care about killed.

So fuck Bellamy and his constant orders, he needs a few seconds to process this, and prepare for whatever tomorrow is going to bring.

“We need to work together if we are going to get Clarke or any of the others out of there,” Octavia interjects, her voice a lethal counterpoint to Bellamy’s bravado. “We can’t wait for whoever is on the ark to help us.”

And that’s the thing. They really can’t wait. But their chances would be so much better if they did. Instead, they are going in, a party of four, with what feels like a rickety plan -something a bunch of kids would come up with.

* * *  
Bellamy breaks through first, and then stumbles backwards, surprised that it is actually her. Finn has lost count, is this fifth or sixth door they’ve gotten through? None of them Clarke, none of them Raven, and there are footsteps and yells coming in all directions.

“Well, look at that - a princess is need of rescuing,” Bellamy teases hoarsely, but there is uneasiness in his stance. He hears the footsteps too.

It’s just a millisecond that passes, and then Clarke blinks at them, like she doesn’t know who they are. Her hair is matted, and there are dark circles under her eyes.

Finn brushes past Bellamy, moving quick now, because they are out of time. She grabs the collar of his jacket before he can get any words out.

“We’ve got to go,” Bellamy says somewhere in the background, but it is all her, blazing back into his life like a star (or a drop ship) on a dark night.

She does not cry, but she shakes against him. She grips his jacket and her knuckles turn white. He thinks he will never let go of her again.

“The others,” she finally says pulling away.

“We’re getting them out,” he assures her and she nods, getting to her feet. 

“We’ve got to move now,” Bellamy growls from the doorway just as gunshots ring out.

* * *  
They are not safe. They never are. And they have left people behind. They have left Raven behind.

It’s something that is clanging around in his head, because it is half of the worst case scenario, and there is absolutely nothing he can do to fix it.

Lincoln leads them to a complicated system of caves, and everyone fans out, finding corners and grooves in stone and dirt to sleep in.

"I didn’t have time" – Clarke starts hoarsely, and he knows it means that Raven might be gone for good. 

He’s wrapping her in his arms again, inhaling, and containing his fear and guilt in the space between them. Every beat transmitting the words he cannot say.

Bellamy coughs rudely behind them and he has never wanted to punch someone in the face so badly before.

Later, she is quiet, moving among the others checking them for injuries, even though she has no tools to treat them.

He watches shadows drift over the planes and angles of her face, and can’t help feeling small and inconsequential. 

At last she comes to him, shivering, and he offers her his jacket, because that is all he has. She wraps it around her shoulders and pulls her knees up to her chest.  
He tentatively reaches out to her, the ends of her hair tickling his arm. Her eyes search his, and he knows what it’s like to be laid bare, he always is when it comes to Clarke Griffin.


End file.
